Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction, which means I do not own the characters or the events of most of the plot. I do own Syreen though.

Chapter 2: Belle Reve

Joker was having a very peaceful, aka boring, evening. The only highlight was Harley's dancing. After the dip in the Ace chemicals, she's beensomuch sweeter, the hidden potential in her now fully blossomed. He grinned gleefully as he watched her do a very acrobatic dance move on the pole, the crowd showing their appreciation with loud cheers. Hadn't it been for her performance, Joker would have been swinging a gun and shot everyone in the area just to makesomething happen.

If there was a god, he must have answered his call because moments later his night was saved. In the corner of his eye he caught sight of a particularly interesting scene. By the bar there was a girl, she looked quite young, barely 20, who was digging a knife into an overweight, middle-aged man's hand, the blade sharp enough to pierce straight through and pin his hand to the table. J wouldn't have noticed if it weren't for the scream that he could barely hear above the loud music, no one else seemed to have noticed. What was most interesting about the situation was the girl's calm face as she sipped her daiquiri, the other hand resting calmly on the dagger.

She turned and said something to the pained man who was already crying, Joker couldn't hear her voice but he could read her lips, "That wasn't very nice, good sir. Now Ihaveto kill you." she sighed tediously, as if all this was such a bothersome chore. She twisted the knife sharply, making the man scream louder and sink to his knees, his cheeks soaked wet with his big, fat tears, "Way to ruin a girl's night. And I really liked this dress too."

Before anyone could even attempt to stop her, she pulled out the dagger and stabbed him in the throat. The blood splattered all over her hands and face and clothes, tainting her bright, golden dress. This attracted more attention, and some people nearby screamed at the gruesome sight. The old man was still flinging his arms to his throat in vain, choking on the blade while blood spluttered from his fat mouth, the sounds he made were almost inhuman. Seconds later he went limp, only supported by the girl's grip on the knife that was deeply imbedded in his throat. However, Joker was more intrigued by the girl's maniacal smile, her amber eyes glinting with wicked glee.

It was almost unnerving, or perhaps refreshing, because it was like looking into a mirror. The smile resembled his own in so many ways, he found himself grinning in the same manner. The girl claimed that the man had ruined her night, but judging from her face that was so wonderfully shaped into a warped grin, the death of her assaulter seemed to havebrightenedher night instead, and his as well.

A few men approached her now, knives in their hands. They must have been henchmen to the overweight man. There were about five men, all armed and with irritated expressions. However, the girl didn't seem alarmed. In fact, she looked delighted, as if they had told her she just won the lottery.

The Joker's henchmen seemed to notice what was going on and moved to halt whatever fight that was about to happen, but he held up a dismissive hand to stop them. After an uneventful night, he was craving for something like this to happen. His henchmen immediately stopped at his gesture, not daring to question his judgment.

Joker leaned back in his booth to enjoy the show as one of the attackers, the tallest one, lunged at her. Before he could get close, the black-haired girl had pulled out the bloody knife from the lifeless body's throat, said body falling limp to the floor, and thenthrownthe knife effortlessly towards the tall man, the knife hitting the spot right between his eyes, and he fell dead to the floor in a heap. The girl hadn't even gotten out of her seat yet as she downed the rest of her drink, waiting for their next move while her bloody hands tainted the cocktail glass of her daiquiri.

Joker laughed at the look on their faces as their tallest companion was dead before their minds could even register that she had thrown a knife.

They seemed to take her more seriously now, because they all lunged at her at once. The girl only got out of her seat when one them was close enough for her to lift her leg and kick him in the face, hard enough for him to stumble some steps back. Another man made to swipe at her but she dodged it and with speed that was almost too fast for his eyes to follow, she was behind him and had stabbed a dagger in the back of his neck, the blade long enough for the end to protrude out of his throat.

She pulled the dagger out before the same guy that she kicked seconds ago lunged at her, and then she kicked the knife he carried out of his hand, seemingly not caring that the sharp blade left a cut across her calf, drawing blood. When the guy was unarmed she did an acrobatic jump and wrapped her legs around his neck, her back arching backwards, and with a twist of her body, she had snapped the guy's neck with her long, olive-skinned legs, all this while simultaneously throwing two daggers at another opponent that was trying to get to her. The knives hit both of his eyes and he fell back shrieking in pain.

She supported herself with her hands as she untangled her legs from the dead man's neck, and flipped herself back to her feet, conveniently kicking another of her opponents in the face as she flipped, her heeled boot breaking his nose and he stumbled backwards with a yelp. She used the halt in his movement to swiftly pull out another throwing knife, and just as quickly she threw it, the knife hitting his throat, and he collapsed to the floor, dead moments later.

Joker was laughing wickedly the whole time, watching the more than entertaining display. The enticing girl was panting softly, a satisfied smirk plastered on her face. She walked over to the still wailing man who was clutching on to the two knives impaled in his eyes, tears mixed with blood rolling down his face. She spoke again, and J read her lips, "Ouch, that must have hurt." she mock-winced, "Please, let me help." Crouching down to his level, with a swift move, she retrieved her knives, the blood that followed splattering more of her face. The man gasped out in a silent scream, in too much pain to let out a sound. Joker heard her laugh, the sound maniacal yet angelic, like chiming bells. She looked trulybeautifulthen, with blood framing her face, twisted into a sick grin. Joker felt the beginning of an arousal in his pants. Other occupants in the club were watching the scene as well, some were watching in awe or in fear, but most were indifferent and kept dancing to the booming music. Everyone had moved to make space for their brawl though.

The temptress walked over to the body of her last kill, retrieving her knife that was stuck in his throat, and then walked over to the tall man that she killed not too long ago. She wrapped her long slender fingers around the hilt of the blade, and pulled it out of his brain, blood gushing out as she did. Mr. J watched as she inspected the bloodied knives carefully, as if checking for damage. With another satisfied smile, she wiped the excess blood on the corpse, and then equipped the knives back into her holster that was hidden beneath her skirt.

"Puddin', who's that?" a familiar voice mewled in his ear as she climbed over the booth and into his lap. Joker grinned and ran a hand down her spine.

"A new toy." he decided. With her abilities, she could prove to be very useful, perhaps in more ways than one. Harley's eyes glinted greedily as she eyed the girl appreciatively.

She was already making her way out of the nightclub, everyone parting to make way for her bloodied form. Joker gestured to his henchmen to retrieve her, and they hesitated, eyeing each other warily, before they hurried after her.

They never returned.

Syreen didn't mind being in the Belle Reve as much as she thought she would. It was annoying, sure. A huge blow on her pride, definitely. She had tried to escape, but it was all for naught. There was no way she could do it alone. And as much as she hated being the damsel that needed rescuing, she knew that, eventually, she'd be rescued by Mr. J.

Mr. J. That was what bothered her the most. That traitorous piece of shit left them to fend for themselves underwater, while knowing Harley can't swim. And yet Syreen, being a dumbass (a trait she only acquired when she met her two lovers), missed the Joker like she's never missed anyone. She couldn't stay angry at him for long, and even if she could, she knew that he would somehow find a way to manipulate her into thinking she was in the wrong. He was brilliant that way.

She missed Harley too, but she knew she wasn't far away and she got to see her occasionally, which was relieving. Harley was there with her, yet not really. A fucking tease of a prison, Syreen thought bitterly. Having a cell right next to mine, and barely letting me see her.

Syreen craved to hear Harley's voice, feel her skin, her touch, her body. She almost felt like a deprived hormonal teenager, much to her chagrin. But that could be contained. Anything can always be contained. Yet, she has made an unpleasant discovery that anything concerning her beautiful harlequin and gangster clown is not easily manageable, which was annoying, but still worth it. The Latina had long since accepted the fact that her black, hollow, sorry-excuse-of-a heart was apparently capable of pure, unconditional love, or at least some resemblance of it. Pathetic.

In frustration, Syreen sighed. She's had no action whatsoever for months and she was bored as hell. The most eventful thing that has happened in the past couple of days was that brief visit from that black lady, Amanda Waller, who had cold, scrutinizing eyes that reminded her so much of herself. What was taking Joker so long anyway? It's been months, years, decades... she didn't even know anymore.

Maybe this was for the best. She'd been with the Joker for three years now, and had been sapped of her independence. This distance away from him might help her clear her head and gain some semblance of control. Her mindless slave attitude that she always seemed to adopt whenever she was around him has crossed the line, and Syreen craved that independence she had pre-Joker.

He definitely won't like you thinking like this. A voice scolded her in the back of her mind, smiling teasingly at her.

Before she could counter that obnoxious voice with a witty comeback, she was interrupted by the sound of the huge metal doors opening. Boredly, she opened her eyes to see what miserable shit had entered to bother her now. It was merely the prison guards. Ten of them this time, and all of them rushing in with their guns, Griggs and Parker among them. Apparently, the staff members of the Belle Reve were sadistic little fucks that enjoyed torture. Syreen couldn't blame them, she was a big fan of torture herself. This hobby of theirs wouldn't bother her as much if she didn't know that Harley probably received the same treatment as her. Or possibly worse, she was a feisty little thing after all. The thought of these repulsive pigs touching a single strand of hair on Harley's pretty head made her blood boil with outrage. As soon as she got out of here she'd make sure to kill these guys in the most painful way possible.

Parker was the one who stepped close to her cage, a slimy smirk on his fat, ugly face. She calmly sat up on the bed to look him directly in the eye, "Hello, Parker." she greeted politely, the mellifluous voice echoing throughout the room, sounding alluring yet dangerous. She noted how the other staff members pointed their guns at her, and how Griggs, who was usually so vexing, was nervously looking in between her and Parker. "Come to play again so soon? You must have fallen in love with me."

He chuckled, but didn't give her a response. Instead he nodded at guards, "Get her. She fights, shock her." he ordered, a gleeful glint in his eyes.

Syreen narrowed her eyes suspiciously as they opened the door to her cage. As they rushed in, holding their guns up threateningly, she calmly stood up and let them seize her. She knew her obedience always alarmed them, knowing how recalcitrant Harley could be, while Syreen was the opposite. It was ironic, because it when it came to the Joker, Syreen was the rebellious one.

"Obedient, aren't you." Parker spat, eyeing her with a nasty smile. "The Joker must have trained you well, you're his little bitch." Griggs nudged Parker's arm, almost warningly, while giving Syreen a fearful look. Interesting, she thought of Griggs' abrupt change of attitude, while shifting her attention back to Parker.

His comment was meant to rile her but she barely spared him a glance, "I guess." she shrugged, enjoying the way he fumed at her lack of reaction. On the inside, she was only mildly annoyed, mostly because his words were sort of true after all. She had willingly become an obedient lapdog of the Clown Prince of Crime. Yet she wasn't foolish enough to attempt to attack Parker out of mere irritation, with so many guns pointed at her. His time would come, eventually, and she would make him eat his tongue. Literally and figuratively.

A mocking smirk formed on her face as she was pushed towards a wheelchair and confined to it, leaving her immobile. "This is hardly necessary; it's not like I'll sprout wings and fly away. Wherever are you taking me?"

"You'll find out." Griggs said curtly, speaking to her for the first time that day, and wheeling her out of the room. She was wheeled through unfamiliar hallways and rooms, until they finally stopped in yet another unfamiliar room. There were small black suitcases containing metal syringe-like guns on top of a table next to her, both women and men stood beside her, clad in military clothing. Syreen raised a curious eyebrow at the objects, wondering what they were planning to do to her. The scene was eerily similar to one of those kinky roleplays Harley was so fond of… Where she was back to being a psychiatrist, and Syreen her patient. Though she doubted this was one those situations.

Before she could form her own assumptions, she heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by a cry, "Syreen!"

Syreen immediately snapped her eyes towards the very familiar voice. An immediate feeling of relief and longing spread throughout her body, her heart speeding up in that same rhythm as she was used to. She drank all of her in, from her pale, long hair and gorgeous blue eyes that were wet with unshed tears. She was in a similar wheelchair, tied up in the same way as she was. Her heart ached at the thought of holding her, her own eyes shimmering with foreign tears. "Harley." she breathed. She had seen glimpses of her, but never all of her like this.

The moment didn't last long, as she was wheeled away from sight, into another room. Syreen was immediately overcame with rage, "Where are you taking her?! Unhand her this instant!" she struggled with her bounds aggressively, "Touch her and I'll kill you! I'll kill all of you motherfuckers–"

"Stay still!" A woman hissed at her, the syringe gun in hand. Two men came to hold her still and it only made her struggle harder. They took Harley!

"Let me go! Let me go! Let me– ow!" she hissed in pain once she felt a sharp, painful injection in her neck. "What the fuck is that?!"

They didn't offer any response, and instead stepped away from her to pack their stuff. Syreen was wheeled out by Griggs once again. She growled dangerously as she tried to move her head to glare at him. Instead she was surprised to see him looking at her with that same fearful look. She narrowed her eyes at him once again, this time asking in a quiet, menacing voice. "Where are they taking us?"

He visibly shivered at her tone, and inclined his head so only she would hear. "You're being transferred, but I don't know where. I gave your girl a phone, he will contact you." he explained.

Syreen tensed, immediately stopping her struggling while her heart fluttered in delight. She knew Griggs was referring to Mr. J. He is coming for us. It was all obvious now. Joker had somehow contacted Griggs, thus his cowardly behavior at the moment.

Griggs was talking again, this time with a more timid voice, "You'll tell him I took care of you, right?"

A sickeningly sweet smile formed on her face, "Of course." she assured in mock comfort. Only so I get to kill you myself, she added mentally with an elated smirk.

He sighed in relief at her false comforting words, "Thank you..." he nodded in gratitude. Fool.

Their interaction was cut short, as Griggs was led away and Syreen was now being wheeled out by someone else.

She genuinely wondered where they were taking her, or more importantly, where they were taking Harley. Griggs claimed they were being transferred, so she assumed they were taking them to the same place. All she could do now was wait and find out, which probably wasn't the worst thing in the world.

A/N: Parker is not a real character in the movie, just someone I made up.